


Lapine Nocturne

by Nyanoka



Series: Dove Descending [1]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Anal Fingering, Anal Knotting, Anal Sex, Animal Play, Begging, Big Breasts, Birthing, Birthing Kink, Biting, Blow Jobs, Breastfeeding, Breeding Kink, Bunny Suit, Consensual Misgendering, Costume Kink, Costumes, Creampie, Cum Inflation, Cunnilingus, DDLG, Daddy Kink, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dirty Talk, Double Penetration, Eggpreg, Established Relationship, Face-Fucking, Heat Sex, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Sex, Kissing, Knotting, Lactation Kink, Large Cock, Love Bites, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mild Urethral Play, Multiple Orgasms, Nipple Play, Non-Human Genitalia, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Painplay, Pet Names, Praise Kink, Pregnancy Kink, Rimming, Rough Kissing, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, S&M, Spanking, Spit Kink, Spitroasting, Squirting, Threesome - M/M/M, Tongue Fucking, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Knotting, Vaginal Sex, Verbal Degradation, Verbal Humilation, cum facial, degradation kink, mild petplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:15:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27058603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyanoka/pseuds/Nyanoka
Summary: The one where Victor offers to help Piers with Obstagoon's heat cycle, and they're all way too into it for any form of denial.Though the costume should have given that away.
Relationships: Masaru | Victor/Nezu | Piers, Nezu | Piers/Masaru | Victor/Tachifusaguma | Obstagoon, Nezu | Piers/Tachifusaguma | Obstagoon, Tachifusaguma | Obstagoon/Masaru | Victor
Series: Dove Descending [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1974847
Kudos: 48





	Lapine Nocturne

**Author's Note:**

> I was told this was extreme, but it's rather tame honestly imo. Maybe it's just me? Granted I've seen way more extreme nsfw so...and this is actually a less "bizarre" version of the original concept I had...it's also just very self-indulgent...
> 
> As a side note, please don't tell me that the title is translated wrong. It's intentional.
> 
> Please consider the tags as well. "Dead Dove: Do not Eat" was taken because people ignore tags otherwise. Personally, I don't consider this dark/extreme enough for it, and everything is tagged. If you are uncomfortable with a trans male character taking the "little girl" role in sex, please avert your eyes.
> 
> This is a fic for those who will forgive anything...

A slender finger pushes itself into his ass, lubed digit entering with a loud squelch and immediately followed by another, both probing deeper, engulfed up to the bony knuckles, and rubbing against previously slicked walls, each movement drawing a noise and a shudder from Victor, panting labored, audible, and body shaking, eagerly pushing backward against a furred snout as a wet tongue pushes into his drooling cunt, rough texture stroking against his G-spot and pointed tip occasionally jabbing against his cervix, motions eliciting pained moans.

It isn’t a particularly comfortable position—he’s halfway off of Piers’s lap, arms draped loosely around his shoulders, loose hair tangling in-between his fingers, and legs wrapped loosely around Obstagoon’s neck; his skin is sweaty, hot despite humming fan and the scantiness of his outfit, white headband styled after rabbit ears and tips tinged by orange, leotard strapless and crotch modified beforehand, slitted to bare his dripping, shaved cunt and asshole; and his outfit is too tight, waist cinched and bra cups pressing uncomfortably against his swollen tits, teats red and protruding and already leaking profusely, warm milk staining spots of white on the dark fabric and overflowing, spilling, downward onto his chest and stomach—but he doesn’t complain.

He’s too incoherent for that, words a mix of one-worded pleas, _please_ and _more_ , and mindless begging, noise only dampened when Piers tugs on his hair with his other hand, jerking his head backward and tongue plunging in-between a parted mouth, stifling his words and teeth clacking painfully against his before biting downward, copper taste soon filling his mouth as Piers nicks his lips, indents forming alongside the faint prick of tears.

Smoother and lacking in that unique scratchiness, Pier’s tongue is nowhere near as long as Obstagoon’s even as it swirls around his own tongue and pushes toward the back of his throat, rough and messy and wet, spit mixing and dribbling downward from the corners of their mouths and onto their chests and the bed below.

Even when he squirms, clothed stomach rubbing against Piers’s erect cock, pre-cum smearing, and when his arms tighten around his neck, nails digging into the bare skin of his back, Piers doesn’t stop.

Instead, he only bites down on Victor’s lips once more, drawing another surge of copper and another moan, equally muffled as the last and noise heightening when he feels a second tug in his hair, roots nearly tearing; another finger force itself into his ass, squelching and loud; and the tongue in his pussy withdraw, licking at his engorged clit, tongue wrapping briefly around it, and at his pussy lips before noisily plunging in once more with the same fervor.

When Victor cums, pussy clenching around Obstagoon’s still probing tongue in an orgasm and fluid squirting onto a dark muzzle, Piers finally withdraws, teeth nipping on the way out and voice low as he speaks.

“Already done?” Piers presses a fourth finger into his ass, digits moving and spreading him further. “Didn’t you say you wanted to help daddy with his chores? Help with Obstagoon’s heat? Such a naughty girl. You shouldn’t go back on your promises.”

Victor gasps as he feels a particularly rough thrust against his womb, tongue squirming against his insides and agitating both his G-spot and A-spot with each movement, and as the fingers in his ass probe deeper, languid and teasing.

“See? Look at how excited he is. He loves your taste.” Another thrust causes Victor to groan, cunt wetting further and cum eagerly lapped up by Obstagoon’s tongue. “Offerin’ up your womb to bred, knotted, and filled while daddy watches. Such a generous girl. Such a generous, filthy whore. So excited to become a mommy, right? Fucked like the bitch you are until your cunt’s gaping and overflowing with Pokémon cum, and your belly’s stretched by an egg? Wouldn’t you like that? To give birth to a brood of Zigzagoon?”

Victor doesn’t reply, still panting, body pushed forward and rubbing against Piers’s cock with each of Obstagoon’s movements, pre-cum dripping and staining.

Piers continues, slender fingers withdrawing entirely and coming to rest on Victor’s ass. “We could even do it on livestream. A charity event, perhaps? Or would you prefer to do it in public? Walk around with everyone thinkin’ it’s mine until your water breaks? We could even put you on a leash—a pretty, red one with a little, gold bell—and parade you around. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, my little rabbit? My dirty, little slut, always so eager to be bred like a whore and used like a cum dump.”

Victor shudders at that, and another moan leaves him as he feels Piers’s hand, the one in his hair, trail downward, nails scraping against fair skin, before slipping into the front of his leotard, nails pinching at a sensitive teat, motion eliciting another squirt of milk, and palm coming to cup and massage a breast.

“And your tits are already so big. Perfect for being a mother. Really, how do you walk around with them?” Pulling Victor’s tit out from its confines, heavy flesh overflowing upon his palm, Piers leans forward, engulfing the swollen nipple in his mouth, warm tongue swirling around the nub and teeth biting lightly, motions eliciting a spray of milk, fluid swallowed, before his mouth withdraws, teat still leaking, staining, and tit still painfully full, milk loudly sloshing with each little movement.

Impatient, Victor almost follows—his tits are sore, overly full, and he wants relief, a warm mouth to suckle and to feed—until he feels a hard slap on his ass, skin reddening and motion drawing a yelp, half-pained and half-pleasurable.

“Don’t be so impatient.” Moaning, Victor feels a second slap, flesh jiggling, handprint reddening further, and thwap resounding loudly alongside the wet sounds of Obstagoon’s thrusting tongue, fur soft and tickling against his soaked, dripping pussy and tip licking at his insides—coating the walls further in spit and pressing roughly against his cervix. “You can feed both of us later. Daddy can wait for his turn. Little girls should always eat first, and you’ve always been a hungry one, greedy for daddy’s milk.”

A hand moves to palm at his breast, cupping the supple flesh once more, before it squeezes, motion harsh and eliciting another squirt of milk, warm stream splattering upon Piers’s cheek and upon his collarbone.

Piers squeezes again, milk splattering once more. “Such a messy whore too, but it’s alright. Little girls are supposed to be messy.” Another squeeze, milk spraying once more and coaxing a noise. “But still, can you clean it up? With your tongue? Daddy will let you service his cock with your cunt if you do. Maybe he’ll cum inside if you’re especially good. Would you like that? That’s what you’re good for after all, taking our seed and bearing children.”

Another slap, rougher than the last and upon the other cheek, comes, and Victor gasps, noise half-strangled, and his nails dig further into Piers’s back. “Well? Answer daddy. You wouldn’t want to disappoint him, right? You’re daddy’s precious little girl, his little cock warmer.”

Feeling Piers’s cock rub teasingly against his stomach, Victor nods before wincing as he feels Piers’s hand harshly squeeze his breast again, fingers coming to roughly play with the teat and the flesh around it, milk dribbling with each pull and tug.

“Use your words. You’re old enough,” he says, and Victor feels another smack on his ass. “Don’t you want your reward? Or do you want daddy to finish alone?”

Victor shakes his head, cheeks flushed. “N-no, daddy. I want”—a whine leaves his throat as he feels Obstagoon withdraw, textured tongue lapping at his clit and pussy lips, fluid squirting once more onto his dirtied muzzle, and soon sliding upward before plunging excitedly into his wet asshole—“I w-want you to breed me. I want to be your cock warmer.”

“Good girl.” Victor moans as he feels Piers’s hand move to the other side of his chest, fingers deftly pulling the fabric downward to reveal his other tit, dark cloth catching briefly on his swollen nipple and flesh equally swollen with milk as its twin. “Now get to it.”

On the final word, Victor feels Piers’s palm meet his ass again, careful as to avoid Obstagoon, before it moves, leaving behind his aching, reddening skin and coming to rest on his chest, fingers squeezing at the tit and drawing more breastmilk and a noise of pleasure.

Leaning forward, Victor shudders as he feels Obstagoon’s tongue swirl against his insides, spit mixing with lube, before his own tongue presses against Piers’s cheek, tongue lapping up his own milk, taste familiar and sweet, and carefully, methodically, sliding lower—to the jaw, to the neck, and finally to and along the collarbone.

With each lick, Victor feels Piers’s hands squeeze again, milk spattering, messy, and his tongue follows, cleaning up the new droplets.

When he finally finishes, he’s nearly full, a consequence of the tightness of his outfit and a naturally low appetite.

“Good girl,” Piers repeats, praising, before he clicks his tongue, noise causing Obstagoon to withdraw, body shaking lightly as to loosen Victor’s legs from around his neck. Obstagoon’s claws soon come to rest underneath Victor’s armpits, careful as to avoid puncturing the delicate skin, before lifting him up and setting him down once more in Piers’s lap, body now facing forward Obstagoon. “But you remember your promise, right? Shouldn’t you get to that first?”

Another noise leaves Victor as Piers rubs his cock against his ass, head pressing against but still not quite entering, and as a hand comes to pinch at his nipple, nails digging into the abused teat and twisting before trailing downward, coming to rest on his hip.

“Lean forward,” Piers says, and Victor feels the grip on his hip tighten, nails embedding themselves into the flesh. “Don’t you want to be a good girl, a good cockslut? Good girls don’t break their promises.”

Noisy, he’s noisy when he replies, a stuttered _yes_ , and noise only heightening when he complies, head soon wretched forward by a pair of claws and lips meeting the end of a wet, tapered cock, moans stifled as his tongue eagerly moves to swirl around the tip, around the protruding veins, and to dip into the leaking slit, pre-cum naturally saltier than a human’s, and enthusiasm met with a pleased growl, agitation apparent with each thrust, forcing the cock deeper into his mouth and throat until only the knot presses against his lips.

His eyes are tearing up, a consequence of Obstagoon’s thrusts, each rough movement agitating the bitemarks inside his mouth and reopening them, copper taste meshing with salt and sweat; the size of Obstagoon’s cock, nearly double the length of Piers’s and much girthier; and the tightening grip on his hips, Piers’s other hand having come to rest upon the jutting bone; but he doesn’t complain.

He couldn’t, and he doesn’t want to, not when he feels Piers lift him up, cock angled against his dripping pussy, movement awkward because of Obstagoon’s continuing thrusts, each one an attempt to force his steadily swelling knot inside Victor’s mouth and each one shaking the bed.

When Piers finally enters him, cock pushing into his pussy with one even thrust and meeting his womb violently, Victor screams, noise strangled and hands coming to grip tightly at Obstagoon’s fur, an attempt to dampen the pain.

He’s too full, painfully, pleasantly so—too dizzy with pleasure to complain and too pained to do so.

Instead, he only finds himself moving, motions frenzied, if overly awkward, because of their position.

“Havin’ fun bouncin’ on daddy’s cock?” Victor doesn’t reply, jaw sore and mouth still wrapped Obstagoon’s cock, saliva and pre-cum overflowing around the red length; tits bouncing with each thrust, milk dripping onto the sheets and floor; and voice nothing more than muffled gasps and moans. “I hope so. Rabbits should enjoy gettin’ bred. That’s all they do.”

Piers thrusts again, motions met eagerly by a clenching cunt, orgasm squirting and coating his cock in cum, and Obstagoon’s own thrusts, wet length pushing inward and outward of a willing, incoherent mouth before a particularly violent thrust meets his lips, knot finally forced in entirely and thrusts still continuing: tugging, agitating with each pull, and knot trapped inside an all-too-small cavity.

Even when his orgasm subsides, both Piers and Obstagoon continue their movements, one rubbing against his G-spot and womb and the other still tugging, cock stretching his jaw and throat and pre-cum overwhelming his taste buds.

Another thrust, knot throbbing and swelling further, before he finally feels a warmth in his throat, cock throbbing and cum spraying, gushing downward into an already full stomach and orgasm eliciting a pained moan, cum soon overflowing from his mouth.

He’s full, fullness only heightened by the tightness of his outfit, fabric straining, stretched, and his partners’ movements, every little push and pull reminding him of the pleasurable uncomfortableness of everything—the still tugging cock in his mouth, knot agitating every sensation with each light tug, teasing rather than impatient, and the thrusts into his slavering cunt, length rubbing against his insides and tip grinding against his womb.

Piers thrusts again before Victor feels his hands come to grope at his tits, grip tight and squeezing and only drawing another muffled moan, loud and keening, and another gush of breastmilk, thick streams splattering onto the floor and Obstagoon’s fur.

Much like Obstagoon, Piers doesn’t stop his motions even when he cums—flesh slapping against flesh and hands still tightly squeezing his breasts, fingers pinching at the reddening, protruding nipples and palms rubbing small circles—or when his orgasm finishes, stream stilling to a near-trickle and cock withdrawing minutes before Obstagoon’s does.

He’s noisy, coughing, when Obstagoon finishes, orgasm subsiding with knot deflating minutes after that, and when his cock finally withdraws from his throat—thick, warm length sliding up sensitive flesh, protruding veins stimulating every nerve— and when it finally leaves his mouth with a loud pop, cum spilling further onto his lips and chin.

After a few moments, Victor feels Piers’s hands move, cupping his breasts and squeezing the underside, milk noisily sloshing, and his warm breath against his neck. “Done? We haven’t finished yet. You know how heats are. They don’t just end with one fuck.” Victor’s breath hitches as he feels Piers squeeze again, hands leaving dark imprints on the skin, and as Obstagoon’s length presses against his dripping cunt, large cock already erect again and rubbing agitatedly against his clit and pussy lips, not yet entering and each motion smearing more cum and spit, sensations only accentuated by the other cock grinding against his ass, movement similarly teasing. “He hasn’t even bred you yet—fucked an egg into you. Isn’t that what you wanted? Begged for? You wouldn’t want to disappoint us, right?”

Victor moans, nodding, before another yelp leaves him as Piers’s teeth clamp downward on his neck—sucking and tongue swirling at the area, coating it with spit—and noise soon muffled as a sticky, furred snout presses against his lips, long tongue probing inward.

Much like with his kiss with Piers, it’s rough—teeth just barely careful enough to avoid a grievous injury and tongue licking at his and briefly swirling before forcing itself further into his mouth and into his sore throat. Thankfully, unfortunately, Obstagoon’s tongue is nowhere near as thick as his cock, lacking in that particular fullness. However, he doesn’t quite mind, hands coming to grab at his muzzle in an attempt to deepen the kiss nails digging into the flesh.

The texture, prickling and unmistakable for a human’s, and the length, long and wet and slender, make up for the lack of girth well enough.

Another noise leaves him when he feels Obstagoon rut against his clit, tapered head grinding against the sensitive button and slit engulfing it, pre-cum soaking into the flesh as Victor’s pussy clenches again in another messy orgasm, and as Piers’s fingers once against trail upward to twist at his nipples, breastmilk dribbling and dirtying his outfit further, before sliding downward to grope at his swollen stomach, hands massaging at the tight flesh and motions drawing another noise.

As Obstagoon’s tongue withdraws, leaving with a wet pop and soon coming to lap at Victor’s nipples, his cock slides downward, grazing against Victor’s labia and head positioning itself at the entrance of his cunt, tip prodding and nearly entering, still frustratingly teasing and unbearable.

He almost wants to thrust downward, force both of their cocks deeper into himself, but he feels Piers’s teeth nip once more, harsh and almost breaking the skin, before his lips lift from his neck, tongue flicking out to lick lightly at the purpling bruising.

“Don’t be impatient.” Another nip at his neck, teeth biting upon the bruising and drawing another strangled whine, as Piers’s hands trail downward, settling upon his thighs, fingertips rubbing at his pink clit, trimmed nails occasionally tugging and pinching at the sensitive flesh. “Good girls should be polite. You know how to be polite, right? Ask.”

“F-fuck me.” Piers tugs once more on his clit, nails pinching harshly and drawing another high whine. “ _Please_ , fuck me. Please.”—his face flushes, embarrassment obvious—“Please breed me and make me your bitch. P-please fill up my womb with your cum. I want to be impregnated with your eggs.”

Despite the simplicity of Obstagoon’s response, amused huff tickling already sensitive nipples, he isn’t particularly unaffected by Victor’s words. Victor feels the slight shake, the increasing agitation of his movements—cock rutting harshly against his entrance, pre-cum leaking profusely from the tip; tongue wrapping tighter around his nipples, motion coaxing more spurts of milk, fluid then greedily licked up; and the ensuing panting, animalistic and predatory and instinct nearly taking over.

“Good girl. Was that so hard?” Victor shudders, shaking his head. “Answer me.”

“N-no, daddy. It w-wasn’t.” He couldn’t quite help his stutter, not with the cocks still grinding against his ass and cunt, warm pre-cum dripping onto his skin and the sheets below.

“Good. Good,” he murmurs, and Victor feels another nip on his neck, sensation softer than the others, as his hands move to his hips. “Now, can you fuck yourself on daddy’s cock? Daddy’s givin’ you permission.”

Perhaps he should have expected something when Obstagoon’s cock stills, rutting stopped yet trembling readily apparent, but he doesn’t. He’s too eager for relief and for a cock to fuck his ass, still unused and not yet gaping like he wants. He hasn’t been been filled entirely, used and fucked in every orifice and reduced to a wholly incoherent mess.

It’s only when he’s halfway down on Pier’s cock that he hears him click his tongue, grip tightening painfully on his hips, before he’s quickly pulled down, cock sheathing fully in his ass as Obstagoon’s length forces itself into his pussy in one rough motion, leaking head pressing roughly against his cervix and distending his stomach further, sensation painfully full. Faintly, Victor feels his knot, large and still swelling, press against his cunt, hot bulb rubbing against slicked, sweaty skin in a stubborn attempt to force itself in and lock.

He’s noisy, voice nearly hoarse from screaming and vision dotted by flashes of white, when he feels Obstagoon’s tongue once again lick at his nipples, tip pressing eagerly into the slits to lap up more droplets of milk, before sliding upward, fur tickling against his skin.

Victor almost expects another kiss when Obstagoon’s tongue flicks at lips, but he quickly turns his head, muzzle coming to settle on his shoulder and snout pressing against Piers’s mouth in a request for a kiss, tongue flicking outward and readily accepted into a similarly eager mouth.

Rough and panting, droplets of spit and leftover milk dripping onto his shoulders, it isn’t a particularly soft kiss, noise tinged by the occasional, faint gasp of pain, teeth having nicked Piers’s lips, and Victor finds himself squirming, a consequence of their motions: the furred chest pressing roughly against his breasts, fur and muscle rubbing against swollen teats with each shift; the nails digging into his hips, painful in a way that makes him want to beg for more; and the thrusts uneven, some movements slight and others harsh but every single one pleasantly agitating, pain tinged with a pleasurable fullness.

Naturally, he wants to beg—it’s hot, overly hot, and he wants another release, dripping cunt and ass already clenching weakly in a pitiful attempt to milk their cocks—but he can’t, not when Obstagoon’s tongue withdraws from Piers’s mouth and swiftly forces itself into his again, wetness coming to slide down his throat once more.

Piers’s voice is low, nearly breathless, when he speaks, breath warm against the shell of his ear and hands sliding upward once more to grope at Victor’s tits, palms pressing against the bruised flesh and milk sloshing as he plays with them.

“Can you bounce, my little rabbit? Daddy can’t do everythin’ for you.” Victor flushes, cheeks reddening further, but he doesn’t reply, neither nodding nor speaking. He couldn’t, not with Obstagoon’s tongue still in his mouth, still squirming and agitating an already sore throat, and the cock ramming into his cunt—pace having increased, head meeting his womb with every violent thrust, and knot slowly inching inward with every movement, cunt stretching to accommodate the size.

He only complies, tits shaking, sound audible, and thighs quivering with each bounce, motions awkward because of Obstagoon’s thrusts, red length bright against the dark lips as it fucks his now gaping cunt, and moans muffled by the probing tongue, kiss tinged by the conflicting tastes of coppery blood, salty cum, and sweet milk.

When Obstagoon’s knot finally enters him, bulb squelching loudly, Victor moans again, noise drawing a pleased growl and another rough thrust, knot drawn entirely out before being rammed back in, length entirely bottoming out and distending Victor’s stomach further.

Even when his cunt clenches in another messy orgasm, cum squirting, Obstagoon doesn’t stop his thrusts, knot pulling out entirely and shoved back in, each thrust rubbing against insides, stimulating the G-spot and A-spot, and hitting against his cervix, pre-cum leaking and increasing agitation apparent, orgasm impending.

Another bounce, awkward motion drawing another rough squeeze on his tits, and Victor finds himself gasping as Piers cums, warm fluid soon dripping out of his asshole and onto his cock and thighs, though he doesn’t stop, ass still grinding downward and milking his cock.

It’s only when Obstagoon’s cock buries itself once more entirely, knot and all, in his pussy that he stills, chest heaving as it finally finishes swelling, locking into place before a familiar warmth fills him, cum gushing into his cunt and womb and soon overflowing, leaking onto the bed and floor, as a peculiar pressure forms in lower body, sensation agitating but not wholly unpleasant.

Much like before, Obstagoon doesn’t stop moving, still tugging coyly and knot hot against his insides. He only withdraws his tongue before leaning over once more to press his snout against Piers’s mouth, kiss met with the same fervor as before and moans, noises low and belonging to Piers, only agitating Victor further.

He wants to move, not to escape or because of the growing pressure, fabric stretching and seams creaking to accommodate his swelling stomach, but to fuck himself further on their cocks. He isn’t quite sated yet—too agitated by everything, every single movement only drawing another noise and every sound too loud, too wet and too enticing.

He wants to fuck himself further, but he can’t, not with Obstagoon’s knot still filling him, movements unbearably teasing and bulb not yet deflated even as the stream of cum comes to a still, nearly stopping outside of a few small, sparse spurts. The best he can do grind downward, sensations not quite enough.

When Obstagoon finally withdraws, tongue and cock both, Victor almost whines as he feels himself lifted up once more, cum spilling from his used, gaping holes, and set face forward on the bed, legs nearly falling over the edge, until he feels a hand in his hair, combing through the sweaty strands and straightening his headband, and hears Piers speak, words simple despite their intensity and drawing another noise from him.

“On your knees.”

Victor’s breath hitches at that, and when he complies, he feels a hardening cock thrust against his cheek and drag downward, cum dirtying his skin further, head soon pressing against his lips and eagerly engulfed with a moan, tongue pressing against the slit before swirling around the tip.

He’s eager, overly so, even as his stomach hurts, still too full despite the cum spilling from his asshole and cunt and still plagued by that peculiar pressure, steadily growing and tight, and sensations only heightened when he feels a thick, familiar cock rub at ass, wet length sliding in-between the crack, overly teasing as before, and pushing against the reddened skin, handprints still visible.

He almost presses back against Obstagoon’s cock until he feels Piers’s hands in his hair, jerking his head forward and his mouth further onto his cock, actions soon followed by a familiar set of words.

“Don’t be impatient.” Victor groans as he feels Piers tug once more, cock forcing itself deeper into his mouth. He isn’t anywhere near as large, in length or in girth, as Obstagoon, but he isn’t especially small. “We’ll take care of you soon. Promise. You trust your daddy, right? You don’t have to worry ‘bout that.”

Another noise leaves him as he feels Piers tug once more on his hair, mouth meeting the base of his cock and coarse, dark hairs tickling his tongue, and furred muscle press against his backside, cock still not yet entering. A wet tongue soon slides against his back, warm and textured and drawing a shiver from him.

Piers strokes his hair, fingers combing gently and untangling the strands and careful as not to displace his headband. “Really. Now take care of daddy’s cock. Good girls should drink their milk, and you love the taste of daddy’s milk, right? Always so thirsty when we come home from work.”

Victor’s reply comes as a mumble, nearly unintelligible, as his tongue pushes against the underside of his cock, licking at the veins before sliding upward and back.

Piers continues, grip tightening slightly in Victor’s hair as he thrusts into Victor’s mouth, bottoming out once more. “Hell, you sometimes don’t even wait—suckin’ my cock underneath the table, in the hallway, anywhere you can get away with it. Such a naughty, dirty girlslut. What would everyone think if they saw you? You have a reputation to uphold after all, my little rabbit.”

At Piers’s words, Victor moans, noise vibrating around his cock and only increasing in intensity as he feels the head of Obstagoon’s cock press against his ass, tapered tip pushing lightly inward and easily engulfed by his hole, wet and noisy.

Obstagoon’s thrusts aren’t quite as rough this time though they couldn’t be described as slow or even simply as gentle, each thrust pushing him onto Piers’s cock, tits and stomach sliding uncomfortably against the sheets, milk wetting the sheets, and pressure building in his abdomen.

Piers strokes his hair, fingers moving to fix his headband, ears flopping slightly with each of their thrusts. “But still, it’s understandable. Breedin’ is all rabbits do, and you’ve always been excitable—eager about having your cunt plugged up by a cock and your womb bred, filled with cum and broken in like a bitch’s.”

Obstagoon thrusts again, cock stretching his ass further, hole gaping but nowhere near as wide as his pussy, and motion drawing another moan, tongue still licking at the length in his mouth and teeth lightly grazing at the hot flesh.

“Though, that’s not very surprisin’. You have the tits and personality for it, my little rabbit.” A hand leaves his hair, coming to cup one of his breasts and fingers squeezing, white milk spilling into his palm. Bringing his hand to his mouth, Piers licks it before turning his palm over, droplets falling onto Victor’s face. “Such a good girl, always eager to serve us and always spreading your ass and cunt to be bred. Daddy doesn’t even have to ask sometimes.”

Piers thrusts again, cock meeting the back of his throat just as Obstagoon’s knot slams against his ass, and Victor moans again, a consequence of their actions and the pang he feels in his stomach, feeling overbearing and causing his toes to curl, body shaking.

Victor hears a light hum before Piers strokes his hair again. “You can feel that, right? Pokémon eggs have always had a short gestation period.” Victor feels another pang, sensation drawing another loud moan. "Aren’t you excited? You wanted to be a mommy after all, and you’re gonna have so many more mouths to feed.”

Another noise leaves him, pained, before he feels another pang, breath soon leaving as he feels a tightness within his womb, eggs moving, and a small contraction, movement followed quickly by another as his cervix begins to dilate in preparation for birth.

The cock in his mouth leaves before quickly thrusting back in, and Victor hears Piers click his tongue, Obstagoon withdrawing. He expects another rough thrust—he can hear Obstagoon’s panting, excited and frenzied—and it comes. Though, it isn’t quite where he expects.

Rather than plunging into his ass again, Obstagoon’s cock pushes into his cunt, head grinding against his dilating cervix, flashes of white dotting his vision and drawing a scream, noise loud and piercing and audible as Piers withdraws his cock entirely from his mouth before thrusting it back in, scream quickly muffled.

Victor’s grip tightens, nails digging into the sheets and eyes tearing up, as he feels Obstagoon thrust into his cunt, cock meeting his cervix just as it contracts and drawing another muffled scream, half-pained and half-wanting.

Their pace isn’t quite even. His contractions are too erratic for that. Instead, they’re alternating, thrusts sometimes hitting just in-between his contractions and other times meeting the back of his throat and womb just as his cervix dilates.

When Obstagoon’s thrust meets the hard shell of the first egg, tip grinding against and pushing rather than withdrawing, Victor screams, noise quickly muffled by Piers’s cock once more, length meeting the back of his throat and forcing him back further onto Obstagoon’s cock.

His hands are shaking, arms nearly giving out, but he eventually finds himself pushing back against Obstagoon’s cock, every little movement drawing short, muffled gasps of pain and pleasure.

“Such a whore.” Piers tugs at Victor’s hair, thrusting his cock in once more. “Do you enjoy gettin’ bred that much? Can’t even stop while you’re givin’ birth.”

Piers withdraws his cock, and Victor almost follows until the hands in his hair tug, jerking his head back.

“Do you want him to knot you like this?” Piers tugs again, pained gasp following. “Answer daddy.”

Victor moans before nodding, motion met by another pull on his hair. “Y-yes, daddy.” Another tug, equally as rough as the last. “Y-yes, _please_.” The last word comes out as a high-pitched squeal, a consequence of his cervix contracting in an attempt to force the egg out. “Please, I want to be knotted. Please. Please hurry up. Please!”

His words are hurried, slurred and high-pitched in a way that’s nearly unintelligible, but he feels Obstagoon move behind him, knot pressing against his pussy and pushing inward, each little movement causing another surge of pain and pleasure.

“Good girl.” He feels Piers’s hand slide downward to his chin, tilting his head upward. “Now open up.”

Piers doesn’t wait, hand leaving Victor’s chin and moving to stroke his own cock, orgasm coming quickly and cum soon splattering upon his face, droplets greedily licked up and swallowed and mouth moving to press against the head of Piers’s cock, tongue licking at the slit, around the tip, and moving downward.

He feels the hand in his hair move, fingers gently combing. “Such a good girl. You even know how to clean up after yourself.”

Victor doesn’t reply, more intent on licking at Piers’s cock and balls, motions shaky, guided by Piers’s hands, and only stilling when his breath hitches, a consequence of Obstagoon’s knot swelling, bulb only pushed halfway into his cunt, tip still pressed against the egg, and cum gushing inward, filling him up further and overflowing from his abused hole.

When Obstagoon withdraws, knot not entirely leaving his cunt and quickly plunging back inward, Victor screams, body nearly collapsing, orgasming, as he feels it push against the egg, motion shortly repeating.

It hurts, tears now freely streaming down his face, but Victor only finds himself pushing back against Obstagoon’s shallow jabs, voice high and whining when his cock leaves entirely, cum spraying upon his back, and complaints soon replaced by more nosy moans as the tip once again pushes against his ass, sheathing entirely in a few rough thrusts—knot and all.

Without the obstruction, Victor feels his cervix dilate once more, contractions particularly strong and egg finally pushing into his birth canal—hard shell pressing against his stretched insides, sensations accentuated by the shallow thrusts in his ass and the fingers combing through his hair, and striped egg slowly pushed further out with each contraction before finally dropping onto the bed with a soft, wet plop.

Though, he doesn’t have long to rest before he feels the next contraction, second egg pushing against his cervix, opening stretching around it, and sensation causing his pussy to clench in another messy orgasm.

Even when Obstagoon’s knot deflates, second egg soon falling with a similarly wet plop next to its twin, his thrusts don’t stop, still continuing even as Victor feels another contraction, third egg popping out in a similar manner to the others and fourth shortly following.

It’s only when Piers clicks his tongue, noise louder than the previous ones, that Obstagoon stops, reluctant, even as he pulls out, cock withdrawing with a wet pop, cum spilling out onto the sheets and floor and Victor's stomach deflating slightly, pressure somewhat relieved.

After a few moments, Piers moves, hands moving to gently pull Victor onto his lap, fingers caressing at his face, wiping away fluid, and lips moving to press against his, closemouthed and softer than the others.

“Doin’ okay? It got pretty rough at the end.” Piers’s voice is soft, concerned and lacking in the sharpness of earlier. “Obstagoon’s always been pretty aggressive during his heats. He’s never been gentle with me either.”

At his words, Obstagoon snorts, noise more annoyed than truly offended, before he moves onto the bed, metal springs creaking underneath their combined weight, and licks at the side of Victor’s neck, tongue careful as to avoid the bruising.

A pause comes before Victor replies, voice breathless. “Y-yeah. I’m a bit sore though.”

“A bit?”

“Okay. A lot,” he admits, body shifting slightly. “But it wasn’t bad. I liked it.”

Piers nods before speaking, “Anythin’ you need then? Outside of the obvious?”

Victor pauses for a moment, considering. “ Can you massage my boobs, please? Maybe suck on them? They’re still kinda full—too sore.”

Piers’s eyebrow raises, and he almost speaks, mouth opening before quickly closing, having thought better of it.

“Really,” Victor insists. “They’re still too full. Please?”

After another pause, Piers agrees. “Just let me get the first aid kit and a towel first—to wrap the eggs in.”

Victor nods, shifting as to let Piers leave, as Obstagoon moves forward, bed creaking as his large frame settling next to Victor, snout pressing against his chest, tongue already lolling out to lick at a nipple, and intentions obvious, shameless even as Piers frowns.

“It’s fine,” Victor says as his hand goes to stroke Obstagoon’s head. “Really. I don’t mind. Just don’t take too long. It’s really uncomfortable.”

Piers’s frown deepens, but he doesn’t argue. He only turns to Obstagoon, words stern and met with another snort.

“Be gentle.”

It isn’t the most threatening set of words, but he knows Obstagoon would heed them well enough. They’ve known each other long enough for that.

Despite his aggression and heat, he isn’t cruel, intentionally malicious. A bit stubborn and overly self-indulgent, spoiled, perhaps, but not cruel.

Even he were, Piers understands his nature well enough, always eager for more rewards and always willing to compromise if those were at stake.

He wouldn’t act in a way that would risk those.

Not with what they’ve promised him for tomorrow night, another body to fuck and to breed.

They had promised him themselves after all.

**Author's Note:**

> My Halloween fic...I mean, I'm close enough with costumes, right? And something to commemorate the Crown Tundra DLC. Probably knocked off a sizable amount of Kinktober prompts if I actually followed those...though...I do think Piers and Victor's neighbors hate them. They can't really do anything about it though...I also think Piers and Victor just have really silly pillow talks honestly...like inane and shmoopy...no deep secrets needing to be revealed or whatever...similarly they're probably the couple that everyone hates because they're too...soft and obnoxiously shmoopy. I just think after the past few serious fics, I am allowed to do something gentler and silly...
> 
> And honestly, how do eggs work in this universe? Nintendo will never tell, but they're probably fast on the gestation part considering shiny hunting is a thing...I spent way too long considering the "practicality" of that for this...doesn't contradict the dirty talk or anything, it's dirty talk and degradation. It's about the feelings, not "in-universe" realism. Though, you can assume that they fucked beforehand if that's more preferable for the egg thing. I actually spent way too much time outlining this...everything...let's just also assume humans are the equivalent of Dittos as well when it comes to interspecies mating because my head hurts otherwise, and I can't be contradicted because Nintendo will probably never reveal that information either.
> 
> And I went with the multiple eggs route since badgers usually give birth to one to five young depending on species (though they don't all survive of course), and I liked it more than just Obstagoon going into a frenzy and just fucking him repeatedly...
> 
> I guess the minor implication is that they all do also fuck regularly. It's just that sex in heat together and egg pregnancy is the "new" experience.
> 
> Similarly, humans are actually rather durable irl, and in this universe, you have canon examples of people surviving Hyper Beams and electrocution, so I think a little rough sex is fine. They'll be fine after some ointment and bandages and a few days of avoiding everyone.
> 
> I was also really close to giving Obstagoon two dicks and just having him knot both Piers and Victor and also DP Victor, but I was like...nah that's not realistic considering Obstagoon is most likely a mammal. Yeah, I know. Realism in this of all things, but it breaks my suspension of disbelief. Similarly, that's why Victor's not eleven here because like...I wanted Victor to have big, milky tits, so I had to compromise...additionally, I was going to go for trans!Piers too in that DP version, but it was like...again, suspension of disbelief with the DP...
> 
> As a side note, I'm always surprised every time I see a Kinktober prompt list because it's like...that's what people consider hardcore nowadays? It's not bad. I'm just surprised. A lot of those lists always come off as tame to me...


End file.
